


to dream, not hold

by salakavala



Series: Set in Stone [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Love, Or Is It?, Pining, Pre-Thor (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salakavala/pseuds/salakavala
Summary: What Thor doesn’t know, can’t hurt Loki.





	to dream, not hold

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by [this stunning piece of art](https://salakavala7.tumblr.com/post/173000527775) . Thanks to it I have a new kink, which is Loki making out with Thor statues. Anyway--

 

Ever since Thor’s coronation was announced, he has been everywhere.

Not in person, of course. Never in person, not where Loki is, not since the Warriors Three and Sif and off-realm adventuring caught his attention all those years ago and never released it. But now, when Thor or his opinion is needed for every little thing concerning the upcoming feast, he has less time than ever for his reclusive little brother.

It’s his statues, the sculpted likenesses of Thor that have suddenly infiltrated the royal palace. A stoic Thor, a warring Thor, a smiling Thor, a regal Thor, a generous Thor, a… and on and on it goes. The great hall, training grounds, corridors, the weapon vault – not a corner has been spared. Not even the library, which is where Loki now stands, the book on the fantastic beasts of the Nine Realms hanging in his loose grip, Thor’s bust staring at him as if in mockery.

It’s quite ironical, when you think about it. How all those centuries ago Loki used to sit here with a book in his lap, waiting and hoping that _this time_ Thor remembered to come and get him to play when his lessons with Father were finished. And now Thor is finally here, occupying the one place (-where Loki knows Thor will never set his foot in, so he’s free of expecting it-) that Loki has made his own sanctuary; now, when Loki no longer wants him there.

But now even the one peaceful corner Loki had to himself in the entire palace save for his own chambers, the one room he could claim his own without fighting for his brother’s scraps- even that has been taken from him. Now, even the library has been made Thor’s, despite the fact that he only deigns to grace it with his presence once in a blue moon, if even then. His bust stands proudly by the high window, near Loki’s preferred spot for reading, face angled to land upon the settee.

Of course, it’s not _actually_ Thor. It’s just a lifeless sculpture. It’s not like his brother goes out of his way to push Loki out, corner by corner. It’s just a decorative piece of stone. Thor probably doesn’t even know it’s there.

For some reason, that doesn’t make it better.

Well, Loki won’t let him have this, too. The library, and this spot in particular, has always been Loki’s territory, and he will not cede it to his brother’s shadow. Turning sharply away from the bust, Loki settles down on the settee and opens his book, ignoring the steady gaze of the statue-Thor’s empty eyes.

For a time, the book manages to hold Loki’s interest. Beasts have never been of great interest to him, not like to Thor, who would sometimes go on his quests simply to measure his strength against one monster or another. But knowledge is power, and Loki refuses to be an ignorant prince with little education on the Realms outside his own, even if his education comes from books and not from smashing skulls into the ground. No, Loki prefers to learn his lessons beforehand, so that come the moment, he will know how to best deal with it. Unlike some others, whose tactics include mainly diving headlong into both battles and diplomatic events alike, allowing themselves to be guided by temper instead of intellect.

_You always make everything more complicated than it needs be, brother._

“Shut up,” Loki mutters quietly, turns the page without raising his eyes. This, too, is ironical: they chose a serene, wise Thor for the library – which are qualities as rare to Thor as is his presence in the entire room. Or perhaps Loki underestimated the sculptor; perhaps she has a finer sense of humour than Loki originally gave her credit for. He glances at the bust, to confirm the rightfulness of this thought – and yes, indeed, no sculptor would give his brother such a sage look if it wasn’t for a jest. It is too unlike Thor’s usual countenance.

Loki closes his book, keeping a finger to mark the starting chapter on monsters of Jotunheim, and cants his head to regard the almost tranquil gaze of the statue. Now that he thinks of it, what did the sculptor use as her reference? Thor rarely looks so peaceful in flesh, and certainly not when he has to sit still for the artists. He’s always laughing, roaring, grinning – he never wears such a thoughtful, almost gentle expression on his face. Not directed at Loki, in any case.

He puts the book aside and rises, steps towards the bust to study it closer. Yes, the expression as such bears hardly any semblance to his brother, yet the likeness is remarkably accurate in every other aspect. The features are spot-on: the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the fullness of his lips. The sculptor has done outstanding work with the hair, too – instead of looking like an awkward wig plastered on a head, it’s shaped exactly like the regal mane crowning Thor’s head. Loki leans closer still, carefully traces his fingers along a faint line across Thor’s forehead; instead of giving her subject a laughably smooth face, like many second-class sculptors like to do in vain hopes of pleasing their employers, this one has given Thor’s face the lines that make him so _Thor_.

It’s a curious thing; the closer Loki leans to look, the more the pretentiously sage expression seems to dissolve, revealing underneath the brother Loki knows and recognises, with his warm laugh lines and gentle crease in the corner of his eyes. It’s like Loki were standing face-to-face with his flesh-and-bones brother, only that it has been many a year since he’s been the recipient of the inviting barely-there smile that seems to be playing even on this Thor’s lips, and it’s not difficult to imagine on his neck the phantom touch that used to accompany such smile.

Loki reels away, taking two hasty steps back and almost stumbling over his own feet. His heart is pounding in his throat, and suddenly he feels unable to breath past it.

No. He will not stoop so low. He is not that desperate, cannot be that desperate. He’s a damned prince of Asgard, not some lovesick maiden craving for-- No. Thor will not have this. Not this. Not Loki. Loki is the last thing Loki has for himself, he will not let Thor have that, too, not when he doesn’t even know, when he doesn’t care, cannot care.

 _But Thor_ _isn’t_ _here, is he?_

No, he isn’t; the library is silent, save for Loki’s hammering heart and shallow breaths. No one is there but him. Not a single soul.

Not a single soul.

 _This is wrong_ , the part of him that encourages reason supplies quietly, but Loki has long since mastered the art of silencing it. Isn’t he wrong already, to harbour the wish, if not the intent? The damage is there, so where would be the harm in a little self-indulgence? It’s not like this is the real Thor; it’s not like Loki would be doing this if it were.

No, Thor will never know, and what Thor doesn’t know, can’t hurt Loki.

Heart pounding in his ears like a smith’s hammer, Loki steps closer, raises his hand to rest on the cool, carved shoulder. His brother’s gaze is heavy upon him, intense, and if Loki just closes his eyes, it’s easy to imagine that it is indeed the real Thor only a breath away from him, regarding him with that warm smile on his lips, gently cupping his neck just below the hairline, like he used to, pulling Loki in--

“...Brother?”

*


End file.
